


Iron Man's Spider-Son

by MemphisGal94



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Tony Stark, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Tony Stark, F/M, Irondad, M/M, Peter Parker gets into a lot of trouble, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony's kid, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Spanking, Spider-son, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony has to deal with it, it's complicated - Freeform, tony stark is a good man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-02-29 15:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18781441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemphisGal94/pseuds/MemphisGal94
Summary: At twenty-seven, Tony Stark is on top of the world. Richest man alive, can have anybody he wants in his bed, successful business. He's got it all. Until he stumbles across May Reilly, and his world his turned upside down.An MCU AU where Peter is Tony's biological son. Every chapter will be a year of Peter's life, told from Tony's and May's third person POV. Later, Peter's POV will be added as well.





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a preface chapter. Endgame got me feeling all kinds of ways and I knew I needed more Iron Dad and Spider-Son. Please feel free to tell me what you think! I love feedback!

The Meeting 

It was a bright, crisp New York City morning when businessman Tony Stark rolled over in his California king sized bed to escape the blinding sunlight. His assistant, Pepper Potts, had just pressed the button on the wall which had opened the shades covering the wall of glass of his high-rise apartment overlooking the hustle and bustle of the city. He was alone under the soft sheets, Pepper having no doubt removed the model he’d shared the night with before waking him up. Ms. Potts didn’t do much to hide her disgust and exasperation with Tony’s lifestyle choices, but she also didn’t let that affect how she did her job. She was, if anything, a consummate professional.

“Get up, Tony. It may be a Saturday, but you have a lot to do this afternoon.”

“Yes, this afternoon.” He groggily sat up in bed, sheets pooling on his lap. At twenty-seven, Tony Stark was the youngest multi-multi-multi-billionaire in the world. His money could fund foreign governments, whole countries, if he chose to. Instead, he preferred expensive cars, high-tech mansions, and fancy parties. “Not this morning.”

“It is afternoon, Mr. Stark. It’s twelve-thirty.”

Tony ran a hand through his tousled, slightly sticky hair. He hadn’t taken a shower last night to get the styling product out of his hair. He made a face as he looked across the room at his super-model-ish assistant. Since hiring her, he’d done a number on her wardrobe. No right-hand woman of his was going to be walking around in non-designer suits, skirts, and dresses.

“Can we push back the interview today for tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, but of course he already knew the answer.

“No. This interview will begin at two. Then you have a fitting at your tailor for the demo next week. Afterwards, you can do as you please.”

Pepper didn’t need a handheld, her phone, or a notepad to read off his schedule. She never did. Her memory and attention to detail was one of the many reasons he made it a point to keep her around. Her beauty was a close, close second. Though he tried very, very hard and succeeded in not objectifying her. As much of an asshole as he was, he wasn’t so much a fan of seeing women (and men) around him as objects. Looks didn’t define who a person was to Tony Stark…they just really helped sometimes.

Tony slumped back against the pillows and studied Pepper’s expression closely. Even though last night had been a nice chance to blow off steam, the last month had been taxing. They’d had some disasters at the lab, Jarvis had to be reprogrammed after an annoying short in his mother board, Obadiah had been riding his ass about a couple of prototypes he wasn’t ready to release because they weren’t perfected yet, and, to top it off, he’d gotten a speeding ticket. On his own fucking road. All of that added up to a messy night after a party and sleeping away half of the day.

“You can take the afternoon off, Miss Potts. I think I’m going to do the same.”

Pepper blinked, unable to keep the look of surprise off her face. “You’re giving me the afternoon off?”

“I am. It’s been a crazy few weeks. I think it’s time we take a break. It’s Saturday. Take the rest of the weekend off, actually. I’m not planning on doing anything except tinkering in the lab after this interview. So, take some time off. Don’t worry about me. I think I can survive a few days without my babysitter.”

That made Pepper smirk a little. “I’m not so sure about that. But I think I’m willing to see what may happen. Now, get up and take a shower. You wreak of cheap perfume.”

“That’s insulting.” He wagged a thick brow at her. “You hoping for a free show, or do you think you can give me some privacy? I’m not modest, but I don’t want your face to look like a tomato.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, but she did leave with some color high in her cheeks. Tony smirked to himself as he tossed the sheets off him and walked shamelessly into his bathroom where Jarvis had the water already running for him

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking the weekend off ended up being a very good idea. Following his interview with a business and technology magazine, and his fitting for a few new tuxedos, Tony dressed down in a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized MIT hoodie. It’d been a really long time since Tony had walked the streets of New York City, and for some reason he felt the inkling to do that with the rest of his afternoon.

Setting off down a busy street, he blended into the sidewalk traffic easily. A winter storm was coming from the coast, and would no doubt be hitting soon. The mayor’s office had issued warnings. You could practically feel it in the air. It was late November. Thanksgiving was right around the corner. It had been years since Tony had celebrated the holidays. Since the crash, the holiday season was one of Tony’s least favorite times of the year. He hated the nostalgia, the love, the promotion of family and love and bonding and spending time together. When you didn’t have anyone, like he didn’t, the whole Thanksgiving and Christmas thing just shoved it in his face that he was, in fact, alone.

Lost in his own slightly depressed musings, Tony walked the streets of New York for hours. He got snacks from little street spots that had large social media followings. He tossed some Benjamin’s in street performer’s buckets that impressed him, he ignored the NYPD officers because he was still a bit bitter about that speeding ticket. All in all, it was actually a really nice night.

Tony was just thinking about where he could grab dinner before returning to his car to head home, when he stumbled right into a couple of college kids berating an obviously homeless man who was bundled up under rags and patchy, filthy blankets, huddled on a vent that blew warm air all around him. People were still walking past, talking on their cell phones, calling for cabs, talking loudly to their friends who were next them. Few even glanced towards the poor man, who kept quiet and held his head down. He didn’t know if he should step in. For one, he wasn’t in the mood to draw attention to himself. And two, he didn’t want to bring more attention to the man’s situation. No one really seemed to notice.

No one seemed to care.

That’s what made Tony take a few steps forward. Just as he was opening his mouth to tell the shits to get gone, a short, fired up red head stormed past, knocking him out of her way.

“Leave him alone!” she yelled towards the two frat boys. The girl wasn’t very tall. She wore large, dark-framed glasses, not a speck of makeup, and loose clothes. Much like Tony, she wore an oversized NYU hoodie and jeans that had seen their better days. Her brown eyes were burning as she planted herself in front of the poor man, who had raised his head to look at his newly arrived saving grace.

“Leave him alone? He shouldn’t be allowed on our streets, dirtying up the fucking place. Filth like that should be swept up like garbage.” The vitriol in the boy’s tone was learned, not believed. It made Tony sick that people still taught generations to treat other humans like that.

Looking at them, and stereotyping them quite well, Tony knew their combined IQs were probably about half his. Unlike himself, Daddy’s money didn’t define him. He’d been gifted with a brain that could turn hundreds into millions and create technology that could keep America in the race with Asia as the forefront of technological advancements.

“I don’t see any difference between this man and the two of you. Now get the hell out of here. He did nothing to you!” the young woman yelled. More than a few passersby glanced in the direction of her high-pitched shriek.

The two kids walked off, mumbling darkly under their breaths to one another.

Tony inched closer as the girl turned to bend down, helping the man stand. He looked a little pale, face sunken-in and unshaven for quite some time. She was saying something gently to him that Tony couldn’t hear over the sound of a passing ambulance with sirens blaring, but he watched her slip him a card and then him shuffle off down the road.

The woman looked up at him as he finally made it within speaking distance of her. “What? Coming to tell me I shouldn’t have intervened?” Her tone was still hot, and there was color high in her cheeks that didn’t have anything to do with the icy winter wind ruffling their hair.

“No. I was actually coming to tell you I think what you did was admirable. It doesn’t do much for the epidemic of homeless in this city, but it did change something for that man in particular.”

The girl’s expression softened slightly. This close, Tony could see how young she was. Probably not that much younger than him. Maybe five or six years. His guess was that she was a student at NYU, probably something in social sciences like art or…women’s studies. He just got the feminism vibe from her. And he didn’t mean that in a bad way, at all. He loved women. He worked with plenty of amazing women daily. He slept with them a lot too.

_I’d sleep with this powerful woman too_ , Tony thought before he could stop himself. And he promptly smacked himself upside his head within his mind. _Shut up, idiot_.

“What was it that you gave him?”

“Oh, it was the address of a homeless shelter where I work. F.E.A.S.T.” She pulled another card from her pocket and offered it to him. “It’s near Queens, which is where I’m from. I guess I should introduce myself. I’m May.”

“Tony,” he replied, looking at the simple white card. He read the black lettering. “Food, emergency, aid, shelter, and training?”

“Yeah, which is why we go the easy route and call it F.E.A.S.T.” She smiled.

Someone bumped into Tony’s back as they bustled past. The sky was steadily darkening as the snowstorm grew ever closer. Tony’s stomach growled too. Despite the snacks he’d had during his walk, he was getting hungry. Walking thirty miles around the city would do that to you. The moment the two had been sharing was broken.

“I should probably get back. We’re going to be swarmed tonight with the storm coming in. If you ever feel like volunteering and doing your part, you should stop by.”

“I’ll think about it.”

It wasn’t a lie. He actually was, which was completely out of character. Usually he entrusted Pepper with writing anonymous checks to charities based all over the country. They were tax write-offs either. If there was one thing his mom had instilled in him from a young age, it was that he was fortunate. Too fortunate to keep it to himself. And as a man who saw himself as a perpetual bastard, bachelor, and party goer, he had no need for all of his billions that only multiplied.

So, he gave a few away every year. It’s not like he actually noticed the dollars missing.

“And we do accept monetary donations too. No amount is too small, and I mean that. You don’t have to be rich.”

Tony pulled off his sunglasses, as they weren’t exactly needed now. “Maybe it’s good that I am. Maybe I should properly introduce myself.” Tony offered his hand to May. “I’m Tony Stark.”

“Stark, huh?” For once, his last name didn’t make dollar signs figuratively pop up in front of a woman’s eyes. May smirked slowly, and Tony found that look to be even more attractive than her smile. “Then there are some dollar amounts that are too small.”

“Now, how did I know you would say that?”

May laughed, it was melodical and warm. Tony smiled, really happy that at least some of his charm seemed to be eating through to her. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Tony Stark.”

She pivoted on the sidewalk and disappeared into the stream of people, walking in the same direction the homeless man had minutes prior. Her long, dark auburn blowing out behind her like a goddess. Tony messaged Pepper, and a six figure donation was made anonymously to the shelter the following Monday.


	2. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and May have some fun. Peter's the result.

Tony did end up volunteering at the shelter. Pepper had gone back to her hometown to spend Thanksgiving with her family. Happy had some new girlfriend he’d decided to take to Paris. Rhodey was doing military stuff or sleeping with some new girl, fuck if he knew. Tony was lonely, in a bit of a bad mood, and honestly had nothing better to do with his time. So, he bundled up, grabbed the keys to his most inconspicuous car, and drove to the address on the card where F.E.A.S.T. was located.

The outside of the building was unimpressive. It was large, industrial, with big windows set into old brick. The acronym for the shelter was painted in black letters on the stone archway surrounding two thick wooden doors. Just as Tony parallel parked a block away, he saw nearly a dozen people hurry into the shelter as the first bits of snow began to fall.

It was colder than Antarctica outside, and he felt things shrinking as he ducked his head against the wind and jogged across the street and down the block to the entrance. When he let himself inside, he was met with a multitude of smells and sounds.

It was a large entrance hall. The floor was an off-white and navy-blue mix of tiles. Directly in the middle was a large front desk with a few workers behind it. It seemed like they were writing the names of every person checking in for the night to escape the storm. Candles were burning on a few surfaces, Christmas scents. There was a lot of talking coming from a room off to the left that Tony assumed was probably the cafeteria if the smells of turkey were any indication. A large staircase to the right lead upstairs to the second floor. At the top, he saw another desk where they were giving out little baskets with toiletries and clothes and pointing new arrivals in the direction of what he guessed were the bathrooms and sleeping areas so they could get cleaned up.

He looked around, all of the employees wearing brown shirts with red letters across the chest for the shelter and a nametag stuck over their hearts. When he didn’t see May, he second guessed coming by to help.

His second-guessing didn’t last long, because the sound of her laugh sounded from the cafeteria. He walked that way, around the line of a dozen people waiting to check in, weighed down by belongings they’d collected from their time on the streets or just bundled up in whatever warms clothes they’d been able to get their hands on. With so much going on, no one seemed to notice him slip through the doorway.

Five long tables ran the length of the room. It was obvious in its previous life, this room had to have been a basketball court. The ceiling went to that of the second story, and Tony could easily see the structures that had once held goals at either end. The tables weren’t full, but they definitely weren’t empty. With everyone he’d seen checking in and heading upstairs, he believed it wouldn’t take long for the empty seats to have butts on them.

It took a few trips around the room with his eyes before he found May. Her hair was up this time, in a braided ponytail that kept it off her neck and out of the way. Her glasses had been abandoned in preference for contact lenses. She wore the same shirt as the other volunteers, only her nametag wasn’t a sticker. It was a real one, which led Tony to believe that the ones with stickers were just normal volunteers who had decided to use their time helping others. A non-profit like F.E.A.S.T. couldn’t afford too many employees. They survived off donations and people’s willingness to give their time without expecting anything in return.

She was greeting people, making rounds to make sure everyone was enjoying their food and encouraging them to get seconds. As Tony came closer, he could hear a soft-spoken child asking his mom if he could get more dessert, and the mom telling him no, they had to leave some for the others.

“Oh, Tina. Don’t you worry, sweetie. I promise, we have plenty. We got a very, very generous donation a few weeks ago. It helped us prepare for this storm and Thanksgiving happening together. If you’ll let him, Darius can have all the dessert he wants. I promise.”

Watching the little boy’s face light up as he ran to the dessert table and hearing the way May talked about his donation as if it was a godsend made him feel…really, really good. It gave him the push he needed to tap her arm.

May turned to look at him, a bright smile still on her face from the conversation she’d just had. Her expression was so open. So full of happiness and enrichment from what she was doing. It sent a pang through his stomach, because he didn’t have that. Tony Stark didn’t have a passion that was so selfless and all-encompassing and fulfilling like May did. And it made him realize, even more so than the first time they’d met, that they were two completely different people.

And that she was still so fucking beautiful it honestly hurt.

“Tony!” It was a soft, surprised exclamation of his name. Her eyes widened in shock but her smile never faltered. Surprising him, she through her thin arms around his neck and pressed her body against his in a full-on hug. It took him a second to recover, taking his hands out of his hoodie pocket so that he could return the hug properly.

He tried really, really hard to not think about how good it felt.

Jesus, he really needed to get laid. Really, really bad.

 _Stop thinking about sex when you’re hugging her, dumbass_. That was the smart inner voice, who was luckily drowning out the asshole inner voice who was definitely thinking about sex while hugging May.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, excitement lacing her gentle already bright tone. She motioned for him to follow her, and she led them down the aisle between tables towards the food buffet. “I thought your donation was you helping out.”

“What donation?” Tony asked as nonchalantly as he could.

He had known, of course, that May would figure out immediately who had made the half a million-dollar donation to the shelter. It’s not like she was an idiot. What were the odds that she would stumble across the richest man in the world, tell him about F.E.A.S.T., and then they just magically receive the largest donation they’d ever received? One that was more than double their previous year’s combined?

“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “I didn’t tell anyone, and I won’t. If you want to remain anonymous, that’s fine. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve shaved, and you don’t have anything in your hair. Or the glasses. I know you don’t need them.”

“I’m actually blind, believe it or not.” He wasn’t, but the reply was at the tip of his tongue. It was worth more of her laughter. “Here, I’m Anthony. And I don’t need a backstory because I’m just a simple volunteer, okay?”

“Whatever you’d like,” she agrees easily.

 _Maybe not everything_ , his inner asshole says before the good side can shush him. Tony pointedly keeps his eyes up as May gets him a nametag and a shirt for him to change into.

The storm isn’t nearly as bad as the weathermen predicted, but it’s still a doozy. Tony takes up a place at the buffet line beside May and an older lady who calls everyone “dear” as she plops big spoonful’s of surprisingly good chicken dressing onto everyone’s trays. Tony is in charge of meat, while May handles vegetables. He’s mostly quiet, muttering “Happy Thanksgiving” awkwardly and not altogether comfortable with the affection and appreciation in all of the tones. He doesn’t feel worthy of it being directed towards him. He’s not that important.

It’s nearly ten at night by the time everyone has been fed. The overnight employees have arrived and are stationed at the front desk. May’s grabbing her purse, and Tony’s wondering if asking her to the bar down the street is too forward. It’s not a date. It’d just be a drink.

He waits awkwardly by the front doors. There are a few inches of snow on the ground outside. He’s not in a huge hurry to scrape it off his car so he can drive home. The snow plows have already cleared sidewalks and the roads are well and clear. May comes from a long door behind the desk with her purse and a big coat that reaches her knees.

“Hey, you want to come back to my place for a drink?” she asks before he can get a word out. “It’s only a few blocks from here. It’s not too long of a walk.”

That explained the coat, scarf, and gloves. Tony pulled out his keys, letting them hang from his finger beside his grin. “I’ve got a better idea.”

May smiled at him. He found that he was really starting to like that.

Cleaning the snow off his car wasn’t fun for him, but May found it hilarious. She kept brushing snow onto places he’d just cleaned off and giggling to herself when he’d grumble. It somehow turned into a mini snowball fight that only ended when he got a face full of it that nearly knocked his glasses off his nose.

Her apartment was surprisingly nice for a college student working for a nonprofit. It was in a newer building, seventh story, with two bedrooms and a nice little kitchen that honestly looked untouched. There was no TV, which Tony thought was a crying shame. But there were loads of books, paintings on the wall. Tasteful furniture. It felt homey, lived in, warm. It must have showed in his expression, because May gave a wistful look around as she shrugged out of her coat.

“I was able to buy it with a life insurance policy from my parents,” she explained. She hung the coat on a rack beside the wall and began unwinding the scarf from her neck. “They died in a car accident my freshmen year of college. My older sister, she lives in Jersey. She’s already married, kids, all that. She gave me most of her half, since her husband’s well off and she’s not exactly struggling. So, I bought this place. I don’t ever plan on leaving New York City. I was born and raised here. I love Queens. It seemed like a steal.”

“It’s really nice,” Tony agreed. Hearing that her parents were killed in a car crash made his chest ache and an uncomfortable lump form in his throat. He thought of his parents, of his mom, and felt like he couldn’t speak anymore.

“Thanks. But let’s not talk about sad stuff. I’ve done that enough. Ever since my parents died, I told myself I was going to live my life the way I wanted and stop worrying about everyone else’s opinions. I’m doing what makes me happy, I’m twenty-one. I can do what I like.”

Twenty-one. He was right then, six years age difference. It wasn’t that much, really. But that didn’t matter, because they weren’t going to date. Tony didn’t date. He had sex. There was a huge difference.

“Do you want beer or wine?” May opened her fridge.

“Beer. I can only guess how abysmal your wine collection is.”

May rolled her eyes, pulling out a couple bottles of lite beer. “There’s nothing wrong with my wine collection. Not everyone can afford to pay a thousand dollars for a single bottle.”

“And that is a crying shame, because you have no idea what you’re missing.” Tony accepted the bottle she offered him and popped the cap, watching as she took a long drink from hers. “Though, wine can be dangerous.”

“That is can. My worst hangover is thanks to wine. I don’t remember much from the night, but I sure as hell remember the morning after.” Tony’s interest was piqued. May drunk and not remembering the night? '

 _You would’ve remembered had I been there_ , that pesky, cocky voice in his head whispered. May laughed, and a sudden horror overtook him when he realized he’d actually said it. Out loud. But before she could apologize, May leveled him with a smirk. This one wasn’t playful. But straight out of a hot fantasy Tony should definitely not be having.

“You seem mighty confident, Tony. I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“I’d be happy to show you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t show her, of course.

At least not that night.

He did, however, get her number. He didn’t tell anyone about her. Because whatever it was that they had was super weird and not complicated but complicated. Tony had no fucking clue why, but he started turning down ‘dates’ and skipping out on his usual social trips to high end clubs and bars with different people he knew through work and friends. Even though he and May weren’t…together, he didn’t feel like seeing someone would get him anywhere with her.

And he wasn’t even really sure about where he wanted to go with her. Other than his bed.

It happened Christmas Eve.

Pepper was out of town for two weeks now. Work was essentially shut down until the new year. This time, it had been his idea for them to get together. They’d met up a few times over the last month. And only the last time, when he’d taken her home and walked her to her door, did she go up on her toes to brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

Tony pulled outside of her apartment. Snow was falling, again. Tony was getting slightly over winter. May came out with a small bag on her shoulder. Just the sight of it caused his heart to race. Of course, they’d talked about her spending the night with him. I mean, his apartment was a bit out of the way from Queens in Manhattan. When he had mentioned her coming over, it had been her idea to spend the night. He had more than one bedroom. It wasn’t like she was asking to spend the night in his bed.

May leaned over the middle console to kiss his cheek after closing the door against the once again howling winter wind. She gave him her characteristic bright, beautiful smile. “Hey.”

“Hello. How’d you get out of volunteering on Christmas?” he asked, pulling back into the main road that was empty. It was a quieter neighborhood of Queens already. Adding the storm brewing made it nearly deserted. Tony wasn’t bothered, because it allowed him to get back to the comfort of his apartment much quicker than if he had to deal with idiot drivers as well.

“Martin told me to take the week off. With finals and work, I think he realized I needed a ‘vacation’ of sorts.”

“You have the whole week off? Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve flown us to Paris. Italy. California. Anywhere you want.”

“As lovely as that sounds, I don’t even have a passport. And I actually like the cold weather. I’d much rather spend my week curled up in bed with you.”

She said it so easily. Like it was already decided that she’d spend her time at his place in his bed. He felt his heart rate spike, and he had to force himself to focus on the road and not this new revelation. It was a lot harder than he cared to admit.

“I don’t mind that one bit,” he admitted to her.

“If you did, I’d be insulted.”

It was his turn to laugh. It wasn’t something he did often, and essentially never was it genuine. But this one was, and it was rewarded by a smile from May that went straight to her eyes. That sparkle, oh how he hoped it would always be there.

Falling into bed with May didn’t take much alcohol. Apparently, it just took some damn good Italian food and a few well-placed compliments. He turned on the charm this time, didn’t hold back. If she’d decided she was staying in his bed, he was going to make sure she enjoyed it. And make damn sure she didn’t regret it.

The rest of her body was as beautiful as her face. She was slim, perfectly proportioned, perfectly May. He’s not really sure how long he spent worshipping every inch of her. He kept her spread out in his soft sheets, his hands and his mouth making her arch off the mattress, grip the sheets tightly, say every four-letter word she could think of. He took her crashing over the edge twice before finally entering her.

He really wanted to tell himself that what they had done was just really, really good sex. But for some reason, it felt more like making love than anything else he’d done before.

It kind of terrified him.

~~~~~~~~~~

They had some sort of thing going on. It was freaking people out, himself included.

Tony didn’t do relationships. He never had and never planned on it. His money had nothing to do with, not really. Maybe it was because of his dad, and the horrid relationship the two of them always had. How he’d been way too tough on him, or Tony believed his father had been way too eager to grab his belt every time Tony had slipped up. Tony had no idea how to be a good boyfriend/husband/father because he didn’t exactly have much to go on from personal experience.

So, they’re not dating but they are dating.

May doesn’t seem to mind the uncertainty of what they are. She’s assured that she’s the only one, and that’s all she’s worried about. Though she’s much more open sexually that he expected. She figures out for herself that he’s bisexual and doesn’t care. It’s not usually something he tells people. Not because he’s in the closet, but because it’s less messy.

All Tony is really sure of is that he’s happier, more content now than he has been in a while. It’s something he wants to hold onto for as long as possible.

He takes her to small restaurants. She doesn’t want to go to the expensive ones he regulars. She just wants good food and some time with him. They hit local places, him always dressed down and relaxed so he doesn’t draw attention to himself. She has a simple sense of style, mainly jeans and cute sweaters. It’s winter, so there isn’t that much else you can do if you want to stay comfortable. Tony likes that she doesn’t wear makeup, and that she seems to prefer her glasses to contacts. And when she wears her hair down, all natural, he’s desperate to get her alone because she’s just so fucking beautiful.

After one particularly amazing demo for the company, and a brand new multi-million-dollar contract with a car company, Tony calls her up. Invites her over. He puts his adrenaline from the performance and the post-deal buzz to good use, which she very much appreciates. Afterwards, she walks around his flat in one of his old MIT shirts that hangs to her mid-thigh. The loose collar slips over one smooth, bare shoulder. Her hair’s a mess, so she just throws it up into a loose bun. She catches him staring a couple of times as he makes them dinner.

On the living room table, he’s forgotten out some blueprints for a line of smart weapons he’s been working on at Obadiah’s insistence. War is a business they need to get on the forefront of, before it’s too late. Tony doesn’t plan on making many, only those for the US for the sole purpose of keeping our men and women safe when they make the choice to protect our freedoms.

“What are these?” May asks, picking up one of the sheets curiously.

He glances over, away from the wok filled with friend rice. “Blueprints for a line of smart missiles I’m working on.”

“You’re working on weapons?” There’s something in her tone that gets his defenses up.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” He lets some of his defensiveness seep into the simple question. It comes out a bit snarky, something he wasn’t going for. And instantly feels a shift in the room. They’d never fought. Disagreed on some things, sure, but nothing this loaded.

Nothing like war and killing.

“Of course, it’s a problem, Tony. You’re designing weapons that are supposed to kill human beings!” He turns off the wok, moving the food into a large glass bowl. When he turns his attention to her, he sees the flush in her cheeks and the flash in her eyes. “How could you possible consider designing these things? Don’t you want peace?”

“Of course, I want peace, May. It’s not like I wake up every morning and pray for an attack, or a genocide, or anything like that. But to be naïve enough to believe that war is possible to avoid with all countries in the world? That’s just ridiculous.”

Naïve probably wasn’t the nicest word to use, but it was the best. May’s expression darkened. “War is not necessary. All it does is tax economies, ruin third-world and developing countries, and isolates western civilizations from the others. Killing millions of people for what? What do we gain? A couple years of an impasse while destroyed economies and countries try to recover? While millionaires like you and other weapons companies make money off the murder of men?”

That hurt. It really did. Tony knew he was a bastard, but he never thought about his weapons being used for murder. He thought of them as defense, last resort weapons. It wasn’t about the money, not for him.

“This isn’t about making money, May. This is about protecting our men and women when they make the ultimate sacrifice of their lives here in the States to protect all of us from those that wish to destroy us. If you really do think that war can be avoided, you haven’t seen enough of the world. I have, and I’m telling you it’s not possible. Religions, ideologies, political institutions, they all have bases in violence and power. No one is excluded from that. Man is imperfect, and as long as those in powerful positions have our bad qualities of greed, dishonesty, and brash overconfidence, we will have fighting.”

“Maybe I haven’t seen enough of the world. Because I thought that you weren’t one of those men consumed by bad qualities. I guess I was wrong.”

He doesn’t stop her when she gets dressed and leaves. But he does make sure there’s a driver waiting to take her home by the time she reaches the sidewalk.

*************************

May was able to move on from Tony. Sure, she’d kind of liked him. A whole lot, but she had known going into whatever it was they had been doing that it wouldn’t last. She knew of Tony Stark. He was a playboy. Too tied up in his industry to slow down.

She missed him, though. That was for sure. She’d begun her last semester at NYU to graduate with her degree in social services. She was still working full-time at F.E.A.S.T. She was keeping her grades up. But god, did she miss him. They’d only been a thing for about three months. Those two months since Christmas, when she’d spent just about every free moment she’d had with him in bed? They’d been amazing.

Her sexual history wasn’t extensive, and most had been atrocious attempts. Too many her partner had left her unsatisfied. But that seemed to be the exact opposite of what Tony did. Surprisingly, he’d been much more worried about her own pleasure before taking care of his own. Nights with him had been wonderful, to get over stress that was weighing her down, just let go and breathe.

It’d been so nice while it lasted.

May really had thought that Tony was a good man. And if she was being honest, she still did. His argument for his weapons had merit, but she just didn’t understand why he had to plan as if war was inevitable. Nothing was inevitable. They could get along, couldn’t they? Countries didn’t have to spend their time killing. They didn’t have to…

She tried not to dwell on the argument. She’d been pissed when he called her naïve, and maybe she shouldn’t have called him a bad guy. Bad guys didn’t donate billions of their dollars to charities every year and not write them out of their taxes. Bad men didn’t volunteer at a homeless shelter on Thanksgiving and New Year’s. Bad men didn’t give out hundred-dollar bills to street performers tucked into smaller bills so it wasn’t noticeable. Good men did those things. And Tony Stark was a good man, with plenty of character defects. Every person had them, including herself. No one was perfect.

She tried her hardest to forget him. It wasn’t easy, but school and work helped. She was so swamped with her classes and writing her honors thesis, she began to lose track of time.

On St. Patrick’s Day, she got invited by some school friends to go to a local Irish pub and get drunk. She was thinking about it as she got dressed. Going out and drinking with friends sounded fun. She crouched down to look for her curling iron when she made her decision. She found it in the back of the cabinet beneath her bathroom sink tucked beside her flattening iron and her tampons.

May froze.

Her tampons. Which, she quickly realized in horror, she hadn’t needed in two months.

May felt the color drain from her face as she pushed herself up from the floor and ran to her planner where it was next to some school work at the desk in her second bedroom that she used to study. She flipped back to January. She’d had her period the third week. But she hadn’t had one in February. And she hadn’t had one yet this month. She had never had a perfect cycle growing up, but she sure as hell didn’t skip a month and a half between periods.

She threw down the planner as she hurried to grab her purse. Sending a sorry text to her friend who had invited her out, she quickly locked the door behind her as she hurried out of her building and onto the quiet street. It was still pretty early in the morning. She walked to a drugstore she didn’t use often that was about seven blocks from her apartment. The whole walk, she had to remind herself to breathe.

There wasn’t a guarantee she was pregnant. It was possible she was just having a weird cycle. There wasn’t a possibility she didn’t notice her period. They were way too painful to ignore or go unseen. But just because she’d missed one, or was a bit late on one, didn’t necessarily mean she was pregnant.

No, she wasn’t on birth control. She didn’t have good enough insurance that helped cover the cost of it. But her and Tony had used protection. Every time.

Hadn’t they?

When she walked into the corner store, the bell binged above her head. An older lady was behind the lone cash register, and she gave May a warm smile. May tried to return it, but she couldn’t find the power with the way her stomach felt. She found the section she was looking for and grabbed one of each. She didn’t know which at-home tests were best, and she didn’t want to jump the gun and schedule an appointment with her gynecologist. Visits were expensive.

May had no idea what she was going to do if she really was. She couldn’t afford the prenatal care. Her insurance was such shit.

“Good morning, hun,” the elderly lady said brightly as May approached the register. But as soon as May laid down the tests, her expression changed. She proceeded to ring up May without a word, mouth tight.

After May had gotten her change and the bag from her, she approached the door. Her anger had been bubbling under the surface.

“You know what,” May turned around. “No, I’m not going to just walk away. You have absolutely no right to judge me or anyone else that comes in here to buy a test. You don’t know if they’re for me or a friend. You don’t know if I’m someone who’s been battling infertility or someone who was raped and could be carrying the reminder of the worst day of my life. Or if I’m just terrified because my protection didn’t work and now I might be pregnant.

“So, no, I’m not going to keep quiet or tell you to go on judging because I don’t care. I really don’t, but the next girl who comes in here might. So why don’t you get your brain out of the 1950s, wake up, and get with the times. And learn some customer service. Service 101 isn’t to be a judgmental bitch to everyone who buys pregnancy tests or condoms.”

The old woman’s face was that of shock as May twirled around and stomped from the store. She made sure the door slammed shut behind her.

After half jogging the rest of the way back to her apartment, she made sure she had locked the door before going into the bathroom. She peed on all the sticks and put them on their respective boxes. Then she shut the bathroom door and paced her bedroom.

What was she going to do if she was pregnant?

She wouldn’t be able to be a field agent for Children’s Services like she had planned. That wouldn’t go well with a growing baby in her stomach. She could take a desk job. It’d be easier for her to deal with the baby after she had him or her. Or maybe she could keep working at F.E.A.S.T. until the baby was old enough for daycare, then she could start working at DCS. It’d be tight. But she still had a good bit of her trust fund. And maybe Tony would help with expenses for the baby.

Oh, God, Tony.

May stopped in her tracks, halfway along the path to the dresser she’d been wearing into her carpet for the past twenty minutes as her brain went a thousand miles a minute. She had completely forgotten about Tony. How in the hell was she going to tell him she was pregnant? How was he going to react? Was he going to accuse her of being a gold digger? Try to talk her into getting an abortion?

That last thought made her sick. As much as she was pro-choice, she could never, ever, ever make that choice. If she was pregnant, she was going to keep the baby. She knew it would be hard, and she would struggle, but she wasn’t going to get rid of her baby.

When about forty minutes had past, May forced herself to go into her small bathroom to check the tests. All of them were positive. Immediately, she picked up her phone to call her doctor.

~~~~~~~~~~

May was about nine weeks and a few days along, she came to find out the next day. She didn’t plan on doing any math to figure out which time with Tony was the time she ended up pregnant. There were plenty to choose from, and it wasn’t like it was going to change anything. She was pregnant. She was going to have a baby.

She was going to have Tony’s baby.

After having her blood drawn, an ultrasound, and a lengthy discussion with her OBGYN about pregnancy and dieting and all those things, she was sent on her way with scheduled appointments over the next few months to track the baby’s growth and make sure everything was developing the way it should be. It took her a good thirty minutes, sitting at the bus stop, staring at nothing before she realized what she had to do first, which was going to be no easy task.

May pulled out her phone after easing down onto one of the uncomfortable bus seats. She had her headphones in but no actual music playing. They were more of an excuse to politely decline conversations. It took her a minute to find Tony’s number in her phone. But when she did, she paused.

How did she even go about telling him? It’s not like she could just text him, ‘Hey, Tony, I’m pregnant. You’re the father!’ But she also didn’t know if she was ready to tell him in person. She knew that was the best way to do it. The only way to do it, but she was terrified. As much as she had been able to get to know Tony during their ‘relationship,’ he had still kept her at arm’s length when it came to personal stuff. While she went on and on about her childhood, her parents, her older sister, her niece and nephew, Tony never once offered up much in return. May knew it was most likely a defense mechanism he had long since perfected, but it hadn’t stopped her from trying. She knew deep down that this was going to shake Tony deeply. Because if there was one thing she knew for a fact, it was that Tony Stark was not the dad-type.

‘Hey, Tony. I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight or sometime this weekend?’ She stared at her phone screen, wondering if that was too vague. She hoped he wouldn’t ask why. She didn’t have a good excuse.

She put her phone away once she pressed send and got off the bus near a large superstore. If she was going to do this, she needed to start planning. She’d have to figure out roughly how expensive all of the basic necessities would be, and then she’d have to figure out if her sister had anything she’d be willing to give her.

May spent half her afternoon at the store in the baby section, writing down brand names, prices, and items to look up reviews on, safety grades, and compare them to others. She wanted the best deal for the best product she could afford. It was pretty obvious, just from that first little bit of time of planning, that surviving on her paychecks from F.E.A.S.T. was going to be very difficult. Even with the pay raise she’d get once she started working for the Department of Child Services, it was going to be hard. She’d probably have to do both. Talk with Martin about letting her keep her job and work part-time. Or stay on full-time and figure out a side job to supplement her income. Her prenatal care was going to be expensive. She’d have to talk to her insurance company about adding coverage…

She stopped on the aisle full of clothing. Seeing the small onesies and little socks caused a lump to form in her throat. This was really happening. Her hand went down to her stomach as she stared through the clothing. It was still It was still completely flat. But even now, life was growing inside of her. It made her feel a little dizzy.

May was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of her phone buzzing. When she fished it out of her bag, it was to find a message from Tony.

‘I’ll pick you up at eight. Where something nice. We’re going to one of my favorites this time.’

She really wished the uneasiness in her stomach had more to do with nerves about a great time than nerves about a baby.

May didn’t make it home from the store until after six, so she had to hurry to get dressed. Her mind felt a little all over the face, but mainly focused on finances as she shed her clothes and hopped in her shower. Luckily her beloved apartment had two bedrooms. Sure, the second room was rather small. But it could work. She’d make it nice for the baby and make sure it was for as long as she could. They wouldn’t need to move.

Vaguely, she wondered how Tony would react. As she scrounged around her bathroom to find her makeup (she had it there somewhere), she thought about how upset he would be. He didn’t want kids. So, would he be okay with her wanting their child? Of course, it wasn’t his choice, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be affected by his response.

May hoped, and prayed, that Tony would somehow be okay with it. She’d reiterate plenty of times, make sure he knew, that she didn’t expect anything from him. She didn’t want his money. She didn’t need his name. The baby could carry her last name if he preferred. The baby wasn’t an insurance policy or a monthly check. Surely, he wouldn’t think that of her.

At eight, she was waiting in the lobby of her apartment building. In her purse, she’d tucked away a picture from her ultrasound. Of course, it looked more like a peanut with little stumps. Her doctor had assured her that all of her bloodwork had come back well. She was progressing in her pregnancy well. And she was doing quite well to not be having mood swings and the morning sickness yet. They’d be sure to come.

Tony pulled up to the door in one of his obnoxious cars. Whenever they had gone out while they were together, she’d insisted they stay in Queens. She paid for her own food most of the time when they went out, and she couldn’t afford his places. And usually, Tony had been more than willing to dress down and blend in. Tonight, however, he seemed to be back to old self. The one he was before they had started their thing.

May slid carefully into the front street. She was wearing a dark red sweater dress that reached her mid-thigh and a pair of heeled boots that reached just above her knees. Both she’d had for a couple of years and rarely wore. She’d had to fish them out of the back of her closet. Her hair she’d chosen to curl, and her makeup was really simple. She’d just put a little emphasis on her eyes.

“Hey,” she said slowly.

“Where’s your Lexus?”

“At home. I thought I’d drive the Ferrari today. Don’t you like it?” He wasn’t talking the same. His tone was as if he was trying to sound like an ass. Pompous. Superior.

“Don’t,” she said to him, looking across at his expression. “Please don’t act differently around me.”

“I’m just being the asshole you think I am,” he pointed out as he pulled away from the curb and zoomed into traffic.

May guessed she deserved that, even if she did think it was extremely petty of him.

She kept quiet rather than respond, choosing to look out the passenger side window at the passing buildings and cars. The car was foreign, with expensive dark leather seats and a blacked-out interior. Set in the dash was a state-of-the-art radio with a touch screen that looked beyond the current time’s technology. May was sure Stark Industries had something to do with that. It would make sense that Tony would be driving a car that benefited his company and his pocketbook.

It was a mostly quiet drive, broken only by the music playing in the background. The ride was awkward. Gone was the comfortable silence they had used to be able to enjoy. Now there seemed to just be tension.

For May, it probably had something to do with the baby growing inside of her. Tony was still upset from their falling out.

When they pulled up to the restaurant, May recognized it as one of the top-rated, most expensive restaurants in the whole of New York City. She only knew that because there’d been a feature of them when they’d opened last year. She had never eaten anything French before. Her doctor had told her what sorts of food to avoid, so she’d have to make sure whatever she had was devoid of any bad things. Alcohol was going to be the easiest thing to give up, but the most annoying. Because she liked being able to have a glass of cheap wine or a lite beer after a hard week. Which, she was glad when she’d realized, she hadn’t done in the past two months.

A valet driver in a typical vest got the door for her and helped her out onto the sidewalk. She thanked him, glancing over at Tony as a second took his keys and the one-hundred-dollar bill Tony slipped him wordlessly. She couldn’t imagine handing over that money so easily as Tony did.

Inside the restaurant had quiet conversations, low lighting, and candles lit on every table. The white tablecloths probably cost more than May’s entire outfit. Tony placed a hand on her lower back as the hostess led them to their reserved table in a quitter corner. They were near the kitchen entrance. But all she could think about was how warm and familiar Tony’s hand felt. It was like his touch burned right through her dress to her bare skin. She shivered. A passing waiter pulled out her chair before Tony could, and she thanked him quietly as she sat. Her skin tingled where Tony’s hand had rested.

“Bonjour madame, monsieur.” A tall, dark-skinned waiter stepped up to their table as soon as they’d taken a seat. He placed a large, pristine menu in front of each of them. “What would you all like to drink tonight?”

“I’ll take a water,” May said before Tony could order them wine. She definitely wasn’t ready to explain why she couldn’t drink yet. She’d like to at least make it to dessert.

Tony ordered wine, and once the waiter had slipped away, May looked down at the menu. It was almost impossible for her to take everything in and definitely out of the question for her to choose something to eat. When she looked up, opening her mouth to ask the man across from her what the hell a Dashi Gelée was, she found him staring at her. His menu was still in front of him, not touched.

“What?” she asked.

His gaze was intense, inquisitive. It was like his chocolate brown eyes were taking in every minute detail of her person. It made her slightly uncomfortable, and in a not altogether awful way. She crossed her legs beneath the table. _Get a grip, May. Your hormones are what got you in this situation to begin with_ , she scolded herself weakly. But Tony Stark was the only man who had ever made her stomach quiver and her knees shake with pleasure. It was very difficult to push those memories out of her mind when the very person in her dirtiest fantasies was sitting not even three feet from her.

“I’ve never seen you wear makeup before. What’s the special occasion?” That was a much safer question than why she’d asked him to get dinner tonight.

“You said to dress nice. I figured you meant makeup too. It’s a wonder I still had some in my shade.”

Tony was quiet for a moment before taking her menu and putting it with his. “I’ll order for us both, otherwise you’ll hate what you choose, and we’ll end up having to get burgers after.”

“You like cheeseburgers.” May smiled. This Tony was more like what she’d fallen into bed with. The witty, cheeky, playful Tony.

“I do. But tonight, I want to appreciate some fine dining.”

“Exactly how fine? I can’t afford too much.” She tried to reach for the menu again, but Tony stopped her hand halfway. A series of sparks shot up her arm, and it caused her stomach to quiver happily. Oh, how she’d missed his touch. “Tony.”

“I’m buying tonight,” he said simply. She gave him a look. “Fine. But don’t think that because you’re buying, I’ll magically end up in your bed like the last times.”

He smirked. It was a dangerous, dangerous smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, they stumbled through his apartment shedding clothes as they made their way through the living room, down the hall, and up the few steps to the master bedroom.

His jacket was left by the front door. One shoe by the coffee table and another by the couch. She’s pretty sure his socks ended up in the trash can, but she couldn’t see much between hot, open mouthed kisses. Her dress was pulled over her head in a rush, tossed haplessly towards the kitchen. In a rush and too annoyed to deal with buttons, Tony ripped his shirt open so that she could pull it from his waist and push it off his broad, tanned shoulders. He kissed down her neck, littering the pale skin with love marks as she fumbled with his belt before it clattered to the floor.

Tony lifted her up when they reached his bedroom and crawled with her into the middle of his ridiculously large bed. She went for the button on his pants, and he helped her get them off, so he was left in nothing but his Calvin Klein’s. When he pressed close, them both in their underwear and her still in her ridiculous boots, he let his eyes roam over her lingerie. It was a black lace set, that did nothing to hide her now erect nipples from his hungry gaze.

Before he took them off, he made sure to drag his tongue over every single fucking _inch_ of her. She came in her panties like a teenager, but there was nothing she could do when he did those things with his tongue.

He asked her to keep the boots on. She let him.

Falling into bed with Tony again was so easy, so familiar, it was almost like they had never stopped. He still knew all the ways to make her scream, and she knew all the ways to drive him insane. Afterwards, she felt satiated and limp. As if all of the pleasure had zapped all of the energy from her body.

Tony came back into the bedroom carrying two cups of coffee and a tray of mini desserts the restaurant had sent home with them. She accepted hers gratefully, leaning back among some pillows near the center of the bed with the thinnest sheet pulled over her breasts and tucked under her arms. Her hair was a complete mess, and she was sure her makeup was next to ruined. But it was completely worth it.

“Now,” Tony said as he sat on the edge of the bed in his pajama pants. He propped one leg onto the mattress so that he could face her. “Do you want to tell me why you asked me to dinner tonight?”

May took a sip of her coffee, knowing there was nothing left to distract Tony from the truth. Holding the mug in both hands, she let the warmth of the liquid seep through her. She shivered slightly, steeling herself for the conversation before looking up at the man across from her.

“I want to start by saying that this doesn’t change anything between us, okay?”

“So, you’re still mad at me for the weapons thing?” Tony asked, surprised. “I thought the past couple of hours meant you forgave me.”

May made a face, confused. “What?” It took her a second to remember their fallout. The weapons. The argument. Him calling her naïve. She shook her head, trying to clear it. After the past two days, their argument didn’t seem so pertinent anymore. “No. I’m not talking about that.”

“Okay…then what are you talking about?” Tony, bless him, looked so confused.

May took a deep breath. It was now or never. Fumbling with a loose thread in his expensive sheets, she let her eyes stray up to his face.

“I’m pregnant.”

The silence that met her words was actually deafening.

Tony’s face didn’t change. She had to give him credit for the way he seemed to be keeping it together. But she could see a flurry of emotions swimming in his eyes. And it was almost as if she could hear his brain working to process the two simple words. Simple as they may be to say, they were anything but to accept.

Especially for Tony Stark.

“You’re,” he had to stop, because his voice came out as a half squeak. “You’re pregnant?”

Well, at least she didn’t have to repeat it.

“Yes. Nine weeks and four days, according to my doctor.” When he didn’t say anything, she went on. “I was getting ready yesterday to go out with friends for St. Patrick’s Day when I saw my tampons under my sink. And it was then that I realized I haven’t had my period since January. At first, I just thought maybe I was running late. I’ve never had a perfect cycle. It’s not uncommon for me to be late. But not a month and a half late, you know?

“But I was sure we used protection, because we’re not that stupid. But we also got carried away a lot and ended up having sex when neither of us had really planned on it. Case and point, tonight. Who plans on having sex, anyways? That seems like a lot of work to plan a sex schedule on top of, like, school and work and stuff.” And now she was rambling. But Tony seemed to have lost his voice, so she kept going. Watching her, dumbfounded, as she kept on with her story.

“So, I went to get pregnancy tests from the store. The cashier was this old bitch, by the way. She was totally judging me for having sex before getting married. I put her in her place though, so it’s okay. You would’ve been proud. Anyways, I bought one of each. Peed on them, then paced the forty-so-ever minutes away while silently freaking out that I might be twenty-one and pregnant. They were all positive. Every last one of them, so I scheduled an appointment with my gynecologist. They did some bloodwork, made me pee in a cup, stuck an ultrasound probe inside me, and low and behold.”

She looked around for her purse, which was miraculously on the side table. She had no idea how that happened. Reaching inside of it, she pushed her wallet up and pulled out the ultrasound photo her doctor had given her.

May handed it to Tony, who took it, still completely silent with the same shocked expression on his face.

“That’s him. Or her. Your baby. Our baby.”

May finally stopped talking, watching Tony look down at the grainy photograph in his hands. The baby was probably the size of his fingerprint, but it had two little arms and two little legs. And it was part him.

“You’re…pregnant. And it’s mine.” It was almost like he couldn’t believe it. But he didn’t question that the baby was his. He knew that they’d been exclusive on both sides, even if they’d never put a label on whatever it was that they had.

May nodded, taking another sip of her coffee to try and calm her nerves down. “Which is what I meant about this not changing anything. I don’t expect anything of you.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Tony muttered. And it wasn’t sarcastic, but more like it was obvious. Because he knew her, and she would never see a baby as a meal ticket. “But you should. I can’t let you do this alone. It’s my fault too. I owe it to you, to both of you, to help.”

May shook her head. “I won’t accept any money from you, Tony.”

“You don’t have to. But at least let me help with expenses for the baby.” He was starting to wake up again. The shock was wearing off. “And let me put you on my insurance plan. That way you have better coverage for prenatal care.”

May was quiet for a moment. She could allow at least that, couldn’t she? “Okay, I’ll let you help with insurance. And I’ll let you help with expenses for the baby like necessities and stuff. But nothing more. You’re not going to give me any money. It’s all for the baby.”

“You’re not going to be able to work when you’re get far along, and for at least six weeks after the birth. You have to let me help you,” Tony tried to argue.

“I have my trust fund. I can survive a few months without a paycheck.”

“May,” Tony said warningly.

“Tony,” she quipped right back in the same tone.

They would argue on the subject probably once a week for the duration of the pregnancy. But it didn’t matter. Tony put monthly deposits into May’s account without her knowing and started a very large trust fund for the baby as well. May cleared out the second bedroom and started getting ready for the baby.

Tony never accompanied her to the doctor’s appointments to check on the baby, but he did text her after each one to get updates. He didn’t have much of a response when she told him the baby was a boy, but he did surprise her with a baby blue bouquet that night when she got home. His driver, Happy, started to be at her disposal. With her growing by the day, Tony didn’t want her walking everywhere or taking forms of public transportation. May thought he was being a bit overbearing, but she went along with it because it was secretly very nice to not have to plan her life around the bus schedule.

May went with a red, blue, and white color scheme for the baby’s nursery. After her graduation when she had more time at home, she painted the walls and added little pieces over time. She’d chosen the name Peter Benjamin Parker Stark. Ben after her dad, Parker after her grandfather, and then Stark. And if things didn’t work out, she knew her boy could go by Peter Parker. Stark would only be on the birth certificate for the next fifteen years at least.

It was really late at night when May woke to what felt like a rubber band tightening around her humorously large abdomen. Her lower back felt as if pins were slowly sinking between the vertebrae every time she moved. And she didn’t even want to get started on how ugly she felt. She glanced over at the clock on her side table as the contraction intensified. She grabbed her stomach, feeling the muscles working overtime in response to hormones coursing through her bloodstream.

Peter gave her hand a little kick as if to say he was ready to get the hell out.

May grabbed her phone and called Happy. It was nearly midnight. If she was lucky, he wasn’t asleep yet.

“Miss Reilly, what can I do for you?” Happy sounded a little annoyed, but he tried hard to cover it with politeness.

“I-I think I need to go to the hospital.” She took a deep breath as the contraction subsided. She glanced at the time. Less than a minute. “I’m having contractions.”

“What!?” Now Happy just sounded flustered. “Oh, fuck. Right, okay. I’ll be there immediately. Did you call Tony? I’ll call him if you didn’t.” She could hear him clambering around to get dressed while still keeping the phone to his ear. “Give me fifteen minutes. Can you last that long or should I call you an ambulance?”

“I’ll be fine, Happy. Don’t call an ambulance. Those things need to be free for legitimate emergencies.”

While May struggled to get changed into some clothes that still fit her and were also comfortable, she texted both Tony and her doctor and then her sister. Tony immediately called her, but she had to hang up because her doctor was texting her and that was slightly more important. Her contractions were twenty minutes apart and they lasted anywhere from thirty-five to fifty-five seconds. She felt as if Peter’s head was sitting on her bladder. It hurt so much to sit properly. Just trying to sit on the toilet to pee made tears sting her eyes.

Jan had just text her to say she’d be on her way when Happy pulled up. He climbed out and rushed around the front of the black Audi to help her into the backseat. He drove as carefully but as quickly as he could through the late-night Queens traffic to the hospital where May would be having her baby.

They had to stop at the ER, and Happy went ahead and had the car valeted. He helped her wobble through the front doors, holding the baby bag and a small bag she’d had packed for herself for when this all went down. The lady at the front desk called a “STAT” triage, and a nurse met her within fifteen seconds as another contraction squeezed her tightly.

“Argh-ugh!” May could keep the quiet exclamation of pain inside, gripping the counter with one hand and her stomach with the other.

“I-I’m thirty-eight weeks and two days. D-Dr. Weaver is my OB. I’m due on the 20th!” She squeezed her eyes shut, having to pause answering questions for a minute as the contraction became almost unbearable. “O-Oh god.”

May felt as if a great rush of hot liquid just rained out of her vagina. Which is exactly, she saw in horror, what happened. But what was worse, was that bright red blood was mixed in. She felt queasy, dizzy, and swayed slightly. Everything became strangely muffled. She didn’t hear Happy saying her name or the nurse screaming for a stretcher as her world went black.

~~~~~~~~~~

May woke up a few minutes later as she was having stickers placed all over her chest and stomach and someone sticking a needle into her hand. She could hear urgent voices of nurses, what she assumed was an ER doctor, and the soothing, familiar voice of her OB as she came to.

Blinking into the bright light, May looked around worriedly.

There was a very loud machine beeping over her left shoulder. The IV in her hand hurt like a bitch, and so did the one they put in her elbow on the other side. That one was cold, where they were pushing cold fluids into her system. Taking in the scene, she noticed the nurse from earlier in the lobby who was writing down what she assumed were her vital signs while the two doctors conversed near a computer.

“What the hell happened?” May asked no one and everyone at the same time. She still felt a little dizzy.

The blood pressure cuff on her arm started to inflate, and immediately the two doctors were by her side. “You gave everyone quite a scare, May,” Caroline said with a gentle smile. “And you made quite a mess. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve got a knife in my back, a rock sitting on my bladder, and my head’s in a spin cycle.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and then opened them again, blinking away the white spots.

“Well, you did pass out and you are in labor, so those things are to be expected.” The male doctor, who was quite handsome, smiled at her. “I’m Dr. Bradwell. It’s nice to meet you. As soon as we get your pressure up, we’ll get you moved over to the Labor and Delivery department, and I’ll let Caroline here take over. How’s that sound?”

May nodded.

It didn’t take long for her blood pressure to normalize and her heart rate to lower. Less than an hour later, Caroline accompanied her while a tech wheeled her over in the emergency room stretcher to the women’s department and into a nice, pristine room at the end of the hall. She chose to get up and walk to the much, much more comfortable bed, and thanked the young man who’d pushed her over. She hadn’t been in the room for two minutes before Jan came rushing inside.

“May!” Her older sister, who was taller and a little rounder, wrapped her in a tight hug. May closed her eyes, returning the embrace as emotion clogged up her throat. Even though Jan had been shocked and a little disappointed, she’d become one of May’s biggest supporters during this pregnancy. Since she’d gone through two herself, she knew what to expect. She’d given May plenty of advice, talked and soothed her during some of the tougher nights, and had asked many questions about who the father was.

“When Happy told me you collapsed, I was terrified.”

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I think it was more fright than anything. You know how much I hate blood.”

Jan helped May take a shower in the bathroom in the room, just to make sure she didn’t slip. Once she was clean and feeling a lot better, she slipped into the hospital gown and laid gratefully in the surprisingly comfortable hospital bed. Jan left the room to tell the nurses she was ready to be hooked up to the monitors. And pulled one of the chairs close so that she could hold May’s hand as she tried to get some rest.

May’s labor seemed to stall, and even though the contractions continued, she stayed dilated at about four centimeters. That was best, because it gave Tony enough time to make it back to the City on his private jet from California.

When he came hustling into the room, he and Jan both froze at the sight of one another. May was caught in the middle of the awkward encounter.

“Um, Jan, this is Tony. Tony, this is Jan.” She took a swallow of her water. “Tony’s Peter’s dad.”

“You got knocked up by Tony Stark,” Jan deadpanned.

“I did not get _knocked up_ ,” May argued.

“You kind of did,” Tony pointed out. She chucked the pillow she had on her lap at him. Tony tried to slip out of the room when it was time to push, but May latched onto his hand and Jan’s and refused to let go. This was probably something he’d never planned on watching. Her with her legs up and spread, he and Jan each holding her under the knee so that she could push as hard as she can. May screaming and crying and cursing as Peter’s head came into view and the unbelievable pain when his shoulders finally made it past.

The emotions that flooded through her as Caroline placed Peter on her bare chest were indescribable. Tears, wet, hot, fat tears poured down her face as she held her son against her chest and looked at his beautiful face. In that moment, she finally understood what it meant to love someone so fully and completely and unconditionally.

Hours later, as she lay in bed and pretended to sleep, she listened to Tony across the room as he held Peter.

“Hey, kid.” Tony’s voice was so soft, with a tone she’d never heard him use before. Not ever. He knew exactly how he felt. She felt it too. “We’re going to figure this out together, okay? I don’t know how to be a dad, and you don’t know how to be a baby. I think we can handle it. Don’t you, Pete?”

May peeked over at him as he leaned down and pressed the softest of kisses to Peter’s forehead. Her heart ached with the amount of love she felt looking at the two of them.

“I love you, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the middle of the night, and I needed to post this before I fell asleep. Please, feel free to comment because I love reading what you all think about the story so far. This is a bit more chunky than the last. We're starting to get into it now :)


	3. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May and Tony set off on th roller coaster that is parenting. And neither of them are prepared. But they can handle it together.

Tony wasn’t wholly prepared for fatherhood.

He wouldn’t tell a soul, and if you confronted him, he’d deny it. But after May told him she was pregnant, he’d started doing research. He bought every single parenting book he could and stayed up late every night trying to teach himself how to be a parent. Because Tony Stark was a genius. If anyone could learn how to be a dad, he could.

He could not have been more wrong.

Just being in the room with May as she gave birth made him want to faint. But he’d held firm, let her cut off circulation to his fingers, and held her leg so she had better leverage to push. He’d dabbed her forehead with a cold washcloth, slipped ice chips into her mouth when she’d needed them, and whispered words of encouragement he was pretty sure she didn’t hear. But it made him feel like he’d been doing his part.

Tony picked May up from the hospital when she was discharged in a brand-new SUV that had the best safety systems available and the absolute best car seat that money could buy. By day three of his life, Peter looked a little less like a beautiful alien and more like a human baby boy. That was another thing he would deny if anyone asked him about how his son looked fresh out of the womb.

“Tony, don’t you think you’re overdoing it a bit?” May asked, somewhat exasperated, as she watched him clean off the already gleaming car seat.

“You can never be too careful,” Tony said knowingly, taking the bundle of blankets that was Peter and unfolding him from inside. Gently, he lowered the little babe into the seat, and secured him into the harness. “His immune system comes from you right now. I don’t want to risk him getting sick.”

She just shook her head at him and hopped up into the front seat. She wore one of her NYU hoodies and some jeans she’d packed in her bag.

The ride to her apartment was slow in the mid-morning traffic. Peter seemed to be content in his place, leaving the two of them to sit in a comfortable silence. Tony wondered what the two of them could talk about. Even though they had talked about co-parenting and raising Peter together, they hadn’t really talked about them. What the two of them were to one another.

In all honesty, Tony didn’t know what he wanted from May. It wasn’t as if she owed him anything, of course, and he owed nothing to her outside of being present and available for Peter. But what did he want from May? Or, the more appropriate question, was what did he want _with_ May?

Tony still wanted her. He didn’t think that feeling would ever go away, no matter what happened. But even with his determination to a present father for Peter, he couldn’t put himself in a bubble with May. He was too scared he would end up like his father, or worse than his father. He didn’t want to hurt May by offering her a relationship that was destined to end badly. Tony Stark wasn’t the dating type. He sure as hell wasn’t the marrying type.

“Were you going to spend the night?” May asked him as he found a parking space near her building.

“I was thinking about it. I figured I could help you the first few nights, get settled and getting up for him.” He unhooked the carrier from the car seat structure and grabbed her bag.

“I should be feeding him every three to four hours, so you getting up in the middle of the night with me will just make you suffer.” May thought about it for a second. “Actually, yes, I think you should get up with me when he cries.”

Tony chuckled at how happy she sounded at the idea of him getting no sleep with her. “I deserve that. I’m not the one who just grew a baby for nine months then gave birth.”

“And you will never, ever know what giving birth feels like,” May insisted.

“Hey, I never said I would. Don’t be jumping on me,” Tony defended himself.

May gave a little huff but let the conversation die.

The first night was just plain awful. Tony didn’t do well with no sleep, and Peter seemed to make sure that neither of them had a chance to really settle in before he was crying from his bassinet May had settled beside her. He didn’t know how she popped up every single time, swept him up into her arms, and settled him down to be fed without a blink. Half the time, he’d barely even rolled over before she’d already picked him up. The following morning, Tony looked like a zombie while May looked tired but beautiful. It wasn’t fair.

Tony was at his apartment, rolling out of bed, when it happened.

He’ll never forget where he was when the towers were hit. Nor where he was when they went down. But he does remember how his world seemed to altogether _explode_ afterwards.

Suddenly, he was called into meeting with the Secretary of Defense to present his line of smart missiles and weapons he’d been working on at Obadiah’s insistence. He had three groups completed and perfected despite no real-world demonstrations. He was a computer genius after all, he didn’t need to blow up items to know his specs were fool-proof. When the dotted lines were signed and checks were written, Tony was front page news again. Stark Industries’ stock went through the roof.

Tony found himself slipping back into his old habits. His name was bigger than ever, in line with his bank account. When Obadiah wanted him out to network, he couldn’t exactly say no because he had a kid in Queens. No one, and he meant _no one_ outside of Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, and James Rhodes knew about Peter. And he planned on keeping it that way. As far as anyone was concerned, Peter was known as Peter Parker. Especially now, with his everchanging business. Defense contracting could be a nasty business. He wasn’t going to put those that he cared about at risk.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Every time Tony thought about Peter and May in the middle of his hectic work schedule, he always told himself tomorrow. Or next week after this contract. Or next month, after this new missile is perfected.

It didn’t matter, right? Peter wouldn’t remember these moments. All he thought about was food and sleep. He didn’t know who his dad was. He didn’t know what his dad was doing. He didn’t even really know there was a world around him.

Tony would make it up to him later. When he was older, and Peter could remember the memories the two of them would make together.

May wouldn’t let him forget though. She seemed to understand, somewhat, his new busy schedule. She stood true to what she said originally, that she didn’t expect anything from him. So instead of hounding him with questions and demanding answers, she sent him photos. Recorded videos. Made a scrapbook after scrapbook after scrapbook of moments in Peter’s life that Tony wasn’t there to see.

Every one he opened made him question his life choices more and more.

*************************

Motherhood was a challenge, let May tell you.

First off, she didn’t get to sleep. Like, ever. Peter needed to breastfeed every three to four hours. He seemed to have a very secure attachment to her, as in, he wouldn’t let her leave the room for five seconds before he’d start crying for her. She barely had time to shower, let alone try to look presentable. Packing the baby bag was more time consuming than going outside, because she had to make sure she had everything just in case Peter had an accident or got hungry or any other catastrophe that could happen.

Secondly, she felt…odd. She knew it was to be expected. She’d just gained a bunch of weight, skin stretched, other stuff stretched. She wasn’t thin like she’d been her whole life, and somehow, after carrying Peter around for nine months, she felt a little empty with him being born. None of her clothes fit her, except the baggy stuff that she usually only wore around the house. She didn’t feel attractive or appealing, and it didn’t help that no one was around to tell her the opposite.

Tony was around for the first month after Peter was born. Not every day, but he came by the apartment. Brought her food or baby stuff, held Peter a little to give her a bit of a break, then he’d leave so they could sleep. They’d been a kind-of family.

And then 9/11 happened.

May still remembers hearing the explosion of the planes hitting the Twin Towers. The earth shaking as the buildings gave way. The smoke. The ashes. The rumble. The fear. The resilience.

When the War on Terror began, Stark Industries was thrust into the spotlight of modern, smart weapon technology. Tony was suddenly in D.C. and overseas, manufacturing, selling, and profiting off the fighting in the Middle East as America searched for answers.

May still didn’t like it. Of course, she was heartbroken about the attack on her beloved city, her country. She cried for the thousands of innocent people lost. But why did more bloodshed and more tears have to be the answer? Why did we have to fight? And why did Tony have to help them? She understood his argument, and somewhat his logic. But manufacturing weapons designed to blast the opponents into smithereens? May couldn’t condone that.

It got to the point where May finally stopped getting her hopes up that he’d stop by to see them. It was pathetic, honestly. Despite how hard she’d tried, she’d fallen just as hard as she’d known she would for one Tony Stark. She loved him almost as much as she did Peter, which was saying something. May had never fallen in love before. And falling in love with someone who didn’t love you back? Who would never love you back? Someone who looked at love like a plague? It hurt. But just having him around had helped the ache in her chest. But now, she didn’t have that. All she had were text messages here and there, which were mainly just thank you’s for the updates and asking how Peter was doing.

Peter, though. Peter was an absolute angel.

He hit all of his milestones. He ate well, slept well, was an altogether quite baby. As long as he was with or around her, Peter was the perfect little angel. His brown hair came in all around his beautiful face, thickly with a bit of a curl. It was hard to take him for his first haircut, but when the curls started to fall into his eyes, she’d had no choice. He preferred to be held as opposed to a carrier or stroller, so she’d bought one that held him against her chest and kept her hands free.

When he turned three months old, she went back to work. The office was really great about her bringing him. Since he was still breastfeeding every handful of hours, and she hadn’t really worked out someone to watch him (not that she could stomach the thought of being away from him for nine hours), May had to keep him in a little play pen beside her desk. Most of her coworkers came by to hold him, occupy him, and let the sound of happy baby giggles break up the sad and depressing sides of their work. May knew she was probably putting complex explanations to what she witnessed, but Peter always seemed to smile the most at her coworkers that were having the hardest time.

Happy still came by to check on her about once a week. He’d help her go to the grocery store and even clothes shopping. And if she ever wasn’t quick enough, he handed over one of Tony’s cards to pay while she bitched him out about it.

It was him that gave her the most updates on how Tony was doing. “So, where is big, bad Mr. Stark today?” May asked as they walked the steps to her building. Summer was fast approaching, and an insufferably hot front had hit the city hard. She didn’t know how Happy wasn’t sweating through his suit.

“California,” Happy sighed. He let out the breath as the cool air of the air conditioning hit them in the face. “He said he’ll be gone for a couple weeks this time. He’s got some talks with engineers over there, then some stupid Hollywood bullshit to do.”

“If he’s going to be over there for that long, why aren’t you there with him?” May asked. It was weird for Happy to be out of service for Tony for that long.

“I’m flying to Los Angeles in a couple of days. I told him I wanted to get you settled for those few weeks before I went out there. He didn’t give me much notice of the trip. As if he ever does.” Happy seemed a little bitter about his boss’s lack of crucial communication.

“How is he?” May asked as she lowered Peter into his play pen. By now, Peter could roll over, sit up, and crawl. Baby gates littered her already small apartment. The living and dining room areas were baby-proofed, but Peter still had a knack for getting into trouble.

Happy was quiet for a moment, focusing on unloading the groceries out of the reusable bags May owned. If there was one person who knew how May felt, it was Happy. Because in a way, they were in the same boat. Happy loved Tony like a brother. Tony Stark was a very powerful, very rich, very misunderstood man. A lot of the misunderstanding was of his own doing. He didn’t exactly want to or try to change the narrative that followed his name in the headlines. Instead, it was almost as if he changed his behavior to reinforce it. Because if they were going to print it, why not do it anyways?

“He’s…he’s changing.” Happy put the reusable bags under the sink. “When he was with you, I could see who he was. Who he really was on the inside. The person he doesn’t want anyone to know is actually there, you know? But ever since the contracts and all the press, he’s let Obadiah drag him back into that lifestyle. Keeping him in California every other week, at parties and with women.”

May felt a lump form in her throat. She swallowed it down. They weren’t together. They weren’t an item. There was no reason he couldn’t sleep around. He was twenty-eight years old. A billionaire. A bachelor. He could sleep with whoever he wanted.

“He’s been with men too, but he has to hide that fact. Obadiah’s quite traditional in that sense, and he’s sure people would freak if they found out about his sexuality,” Happy explained with a roll of his eyes. He sighed again. “He’s let himself lose sight of what is important.”

“What’s important to Tony Stark and what’s important to you and me are two completely different things,” May mumbled.

“That isn’t true, May,” he said. “Tony loves Peter. He loves Peter more than anything.”

“Don’t say that,” May said, somewhat bitterly. “If that were the case, he would be here when he was in New York. He wouldn’t have been AWOL for the past six months.”

“Tony loves Peter,” Happy said firmly. “He might have let himself get distracted by that, yes, but he does. He’ll figure it out sooner or later. And if it’s after he’s missed a lot of important moments, well, it’ll be his mistakes to regret. You can’t let yourself get hung up on it.”

May took what Happy said to heart and tried to will herself to stop thinking about Tony during her free time. Instead, she refocused on Peter. She worked on the beginnings of teaching him “no” and tried to get him to say “Mama.” With a dad like Tony Stark, she figured he’d have a brain the size of Alaska by the time he was a year old.

It was after a cold front hit towards the end of spring when May woke to Peter sniffling from his crib. She called in sick to work to stay home with him, just to be on the safe side. She paid extra attention to his temperature and his sneezing. He went to bed fine. She was a little worried, of course, but he only had a very low-grade fever, and he’d drank plenty of her milk when she’d fed hm and even a bit of juice. So, she’d felt okay going to bed. Until she woke up in the middle of the night to him coughing horribly through the baby monitor.

Then he was crying so pitifully it made her want to tear up.

Pulling on her robe, May hurried into Peter’s room to scoop him into her arms. Unlike how he usually responded, he kept crying. That wasn’t what made her heart falter in her chest. It was the intense heat radiating from his face and his rattling breaths every time he tried to breathe in.

It took May seconds to overcome her horror, before she was pulling on clothes, grabbing Peter’s baby bag, and was hurrying out the door with him secured in his carrier. Fifteen minutes later, she was at the closest children’s hospital that had a twenty-four-hour emergency room.

Peter was still crying, and protested vehemently in cracked, staggered screams as he struggled to take in adequate oxygen. His face was red, his little hands were balled into fists, and he cried and cried as they triaged him. May was terrified as she answered all of the questions. She was mad at herself and apologized profusely to the nurse who asked what his temperature had been at home when she realized she hadn’t taken it. May felt a little faint when the nurse asked her to hold Peter steady as she took his temperature rectally, and even worse at the look on her face when she read the numbers.

“Give us a quick minute to find a room for him, okay? We’re very busy tonight, but we’ll find somewhere to see him.” She stood, and upon seeing the look on May’s face, paused at the door and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, hun. I promise we’ll take good care of you.”

When she was out the door, May gathered Peter’s still naked form against her chest and tried her best to calm his pitiful cries as she herself felt tears burning the insides of her eyes. This was the first time Peter had ever gotten sick, and it felt so overwhelming. The fever, the difficulty breathing, the cough, the crying…May couldn’t do this alone.

“Please, Tony. Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she begged the phone as if she could will him to grab it, wherever he was.

“Hey, this is Tony Star…” May slammed her thumb against the red phone to end the call and tried again. After the fourth call and no answer, she finally gave up. With tears falling and her voice shaking, she left him a message.

“H-Hey, Tony. I-It’s May. Look, I know you’re probably busy and all. And I t-try not to bother you. But P-Peter’s sick and I’m at the emergency r-room. H-He’s got a really high f-fever and he’s had t-trouble breathing. And I’m just, I’m s-scared out of my mind. I can’t do this a-alone. Please. Please, c-can you just call me w-when you get this?”

She hung up the phone and hastily wiped her eyes, swaying Peter gently.

Peter had RSV, come to find out. Not a severe case, but bad enough that the doctor wanted to keep him in the hospital for a couple of nights to monitor him. Medication and breathing treatments would probably be enough for him, but they wanted to be extra careful because he was still young and hadn’t been able to receive a couple of crucial vaccines yet.

May kept waiting and waiting for Tony to call her back. But the next morning, after they were able to get some sleep in Peter’s room and she needed clothes, she finally gave up and called Happy.

“Hey, Happy? Could you do me a huge favor?” When he agreed, she continued. “Don’t freak out, but Peter’s in the hospital.”

“Peter’s in the _what_?!” Happy screeched.

May winced. “The hospital. He has an upper respiratory infection. It’s a long story that I’ll explain once you get here. Which is back to that favor. Could you swing by my apartment and pack me a small bag of clothes?”

“He had to spend the night? You’re having to spend more nights? Why the hell didn’t you call me?!”

“I called Tony, thank you,” May said defensively. “Where is he, anyways? He still hasn’t called me back.” Silence met her statement. “Happy, where’s Tony?”

“He was out at some fancy dinner til late last night. He had his phone on him. I don’t know why he wouldn’t have left the moment he got your call.”

May felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head. A dinner. A fucking dinner had kept Tony from answering his phone. While May had been in the fucking _emergency room_ with their sick son, he’d been wining and dining with a load of other rich people before he probably took one or two of them home to fuck. It made her blood start to boil. Color rose in her cheeks.

“A dinner,” May repeated. Her tone was lethal.

“Okay. Um, I’ll be there soon with clothes. Don’t kill me.” And he hung up.

May went over to the crib where Peter lay sleeping. He’d slept quite well once they’d been seen to a room. All of the poking and prodding and person-passing and excitement on top of the medication seemed to have taken its toll on him. The nurses had told her it was good for her to still breastfeed him if that was still his primary food source, but just to make sure she kept up with how long so they could know. Monitoring how well he ate was a big indicator of how good he was feeling.

Gently, May caressed a finger over his tiny fist. Immediately, Peter latched onto the familiar digit and kept sleeping as if nothing had happened. Her other hand brushed over forehead. With some Tylenol, his fever had reduced quite a bit to a much better level. While still warm, he was nowhere near as hot as he had been the night before.

His color already seemed a lot better. She was sure they’d be able to leave tomorrow or the next day at the latest with how well he seemed to be responding to treatment, just as the doctor had promised he would.

It put May at ease to know her baby was feeling better.

Her good mood was quickly spoiled when the door opened and none other than Tony Stark walked inside.

He looked as good as ever, supporting a just rolled out of bed look and attire. A baseball cap and day-old scruff that somewhat masked his signature goatee. May’s smile disappeared when she saw his face, even though there was a mixture of a lot of emotions in his expression: guilt, fear, apologetic…

“What, party and fun time over? Your play thing leave, so you thought you might check your phone?” May said darkly before she could stop herself.

“May, I’m so sorry. I was at a dinner,” he started to explain.

“I don’t want your excuses, Tony,” she interrupted him. “No dinner, no party, no meeting is more important that our child’s health. _Our_ child. Because you promised me, you swore to me that you would be involved. That you wouldn’t be absent. You promised me. And I’ve let it slide, because I know you’ve been busy. I know your work has more than doubled since 9/11 and our invasion of the Middle East.

“But you can’t sit there and look me in the eye and tell me that every second of your time has been filled with work. I’ve seen the pictures. I’ve seen the clips. You’ve had a lot of free time, and you’ve chosen to spend it with women and men and flings instead of with your son.”

“You’re right,” Tony said quickly, grabbing her face gently. “You’re right. Okay? I was an idiot. A goddamn fucking idiot.”

“Language,” May said weakly. He knew how she felt about him cussing around Peter.

“Okay, a gosh-darn fuzzing idiot,” Tony amended. And try as she might, May felt a giggle bubble out of her weakly. “And I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I’m not perfect, May. I’m barely close to scratching the surface of mediocre when it comes to being a decent guy. I let myself get distracted by things that weren’t important, and it kept me from the thing I cherish the most.”

Tony kissed her forehead softly before he turned to Peter’s hospital crib. There was emotion May could quite place twinkling in his eyes.

“He’s doing better,” May said softly. She stayed back, letting Tony have this moment with Peter alone. “The doctor just wanted to keep him a couple of nights as a precaution.”

She watched as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. Slowly, Peter’s eyes began to open. His arms and legs waved around as he stretched. His eyes found Tony’s face, and he smiled slowly. It was out of curiosity that Peter reached for Tony’s nose and hooked a thumb accidentally in Tony’s nostril, which caused the older man to pull back and sneeze into his elbow. Which set Peter’s happy, high-pitched giggled ringing through the spacious room.

May smiled as she stepped up to the other side. When Peter saw her, his arms immediately reached for her and a string of unintelligible syllables spilled from his mouth. “Oh yes,” May pretended to agree, picking him up from the crib and moving to the rocking chair by the window that overlooked the neighborhood. She adjusted her tank top, and he latched on gratefully to her.

“You’re still breastfeeding?” Tony asked, surprised.

“Yes, though we’re almost done. He’s starting to enjoy more solid foods and I’m starting to dry up. My doctor said it’s healthy to go on for as long as he and I can. And so far, we’ve been doing well.”

A comfortable silence overtook them. As May stroked Peter’s head and patted his bottom, Tony watched the two of them. She didn’t feel awkward under his intense gaze. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, and she was proud of herself for being able to feed him still after seven months. In the quiet, it was easy to let her anger at the man across the room disintegrate. No, she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily, but she also wasn’t going to let it ruin the first time she’d seen him in so long.

“I’ll be more present,” Tony said that night.

The staff had found a recliner for the room when Tony had insisted on spending the night as well. May was sleeping on the couch since she was much shorter and could actually fit. May had just come out of the room’s bath in her pajamas with her wet hair thrown up into a messy bun.

“I don’t expect you to be father of the year,” she said as she made her makeshift bed on the couch and fluffed up her pillow that Happy had brought from her apartment. “But when you swore to me that you wanted to be involved, and I put your name on that birth certificate, I told you there were no takebacks. He’s yours now too. I’m not expecting a big house, a white picket fence, and a happily ever after. I’m just expecting an effort.”

“And you’ll have that, okay? From now on.” Tony reached out and took her hand.

A spark seemed to ignite in her chest just at the feel of his skin on hers. She looked up at him silently, finding his chocolate eyes that she found so much comfort in. It felt as if she were slipping back into the abyss that was loving him. She’d worked so hard on moving past him, smacking some sense into her own stupid heart that she and Tony would never work because they wanted completely different things.

He started to lean closer, and May couldn’t find the words to stop him. All those months of progress were lost as he pressed his lips to hers. Gone were all of the thoughts of how many women he’d kissed since he’d last kissed her. Gone were the worries of how many models, how many singers, how many actresses. Instead, all she could think about was Tony. It would always be him.

Just Tony.

“I promise,” he whispered against her lips.

And this time, she believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long for me to update! I took the MCAT last Saturday, then jumped right back into a heavy week of work, which ended with me getting some sort of stomach bug that kept me in bed for 30 hours. I'm only just now getting back on my feet. Anyways, I love hearing what you all think! Thank you so much for all the love!


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